Bloodhounds
by Kilrez
Summary: Being from the future, Jack naturally has some pretty strange talents. 'It was lucky we had our bloodhound with us. That alien might have given us the slip otherwise.’


**Bloodhounds**

Because yes, Jack natrually would have all sorts of strange talents that are yet to be revealed on the shows. I can think of many reasons why Jack would know how to do this. Therefore, this is canon. Completely. 100 percent canon. Shh... leave me my daydreams...

* * *

'Fuck.' 

'What?'

'We lost the signature.'

'How can you lose the signature? The thing's leaving a pheromone signal a mile wide!'

'Don't blame me, Jack. It must have switched it off or something.'

'Maybe it teleported out,' offered Tosh, trying to barter peace between Owen and Jack. Owen had been picking fights ever since it became clear that they were going to have to track the latest alien menace out of the city, into the dreaded Welsh countryside.

'Dogons can't teleport, it's one of their most basic limitations. And how the hell would it "turn off" its pheromones?'

'Look, I don't know. But don't get pissy with me about it.' Owen had his jaw thrust out, body language spoiling for a fight. Jack narrowed his eyes, and Gwen found she was holding her breath, looking nervously back and forth between them.

Jack clenched his jaw, and Owen broke the staring contest, muttering something as he stalked away. Glaring after him for a moment, Jack put his hands on his hips and scanned the wind-blown field they were standing in. The sun was already touching the horizon. He appeared to be thinking.

'So what now?' ventured Gwen. They'd been tracking this thing for many miles, and to lose the trail now seemed almost unthinkable. Not to mention that the Dogon in question had already proven itself more than happy to kill.

Jack chewed his lip for a moment, then looked back at her and Tosh and then over at Owen who was standing several meters away, back resolutely turned. 'Is here where the signature ends?'

'No, Jack. It continues on for a bit; I just felt like stopping here.' His tone had sarcasm you could float rocks on. Jack scowled. Owen was really pushing the limit.

'Owen, if we're going to find this thing, then I need you to cooperate. Now, is this right here, where we're standing, where the trail disappeared?' Jack enunciated slowly and clearly, obviously trying to keep his temper. Owen squinted at him, then walked back over and consulted the scanner he was still holding.

'No,' he said after a moment. He carefully orientated the scanner, then glanced up to check his directions. 'It's about five meters that way. How will that help?'

'Trust me,' said Jack with a shallow grin. 'Everyone stay behind me.'

'Why?' questioned Tosh automatically, then clamped her mouth shut, worried that the question sounded argumentative.

Jack just threw her a quick wink. 'We're going to do this the old fashioned way.' He paced over to where Owen had indicated and began intently scanning the ground with narrowed eyes. They all watched him curiously, even Owen, who was rapidly getting over his hissy-fit now that something productive was being done.

'Ah. There,' was all Jack said, before he suddenly started moving forwards again, eyes on the ground and lengthy shadow trailing out behind him.

'Ye gods. You're actually going to track it by eye,' Owen groaned.

'When technology fails…' replied Jack, still walking. His gaze was active, roaming over the ground as he passed it, picking up gods-knew-what.

'I can't see any tracks,' said Gwen, after a few hundred meters. They were making steady progress, and Jack appeared to know exactly what he was doing. He seemed undeterred by the deepening dusk. Nevertheless, to the naked eye, he was following nothing at all.

He stopped and looked up at her, and she noticed he was careful not to move his feet whilst not looking at the ground. 'You know- humans successfully hunted prey for millennia without once using a pheromone scanner.'

'Well, brilliant then. Naturally, therefore, every modern-day bloke should be able to nip out to the hills of a weekend and track down a buffalo to spear.' Owen spoke dryly, one eyebrow raised.

Jack's lips quirked into an uneven grin. 'Not exactly. There's training involved. But this fella's hardly covering his tracks. Look, there,' he indicated a patch of grass that was, to Gwen's eye, incredibly similar to every patch of grass in a 5 mile radius.

'Jack, there's nothing there,' Owen told him, shifting and shoving his hands in his pockets. The wind in the fields was icy.

Jack shook his head and made a disappointed sound. 'Clear claw marks. And about fifty meters back there's was a couple of hairs scraped off on a rock. You just gotta keep your eyes peeled.' So saying, he turned his gaze back to the ground and paced forwards once more. Owen rolled his eyes to the sky, but kept silent and followed. Behind the two men, Tosh and Gwen made amused faces at each other, careful not to make a sound.

They approached a copse of trees and Jack un-holstered his gun. The others followed his lead, suddenly becoming wary and alert.

'Is it in there?' whispered Owen, scanning the trees carefully.

Jack shrugged. 'I don't know without circling around and checking for any tracks leading out. Easier just to follow it in with gun blazing. Owen, take the north perimeter, Gwen, east, Tosh, west. Maintain silence on the comms if possible. Remember, we just want it dead. It's murdered one to many people to earn a right to a trial. If I flush it out, shoot it dead.'

One by one they indicated understanding and took up their positions, Gwen and Owen circling to the left, Tosh to the right. 'Just keep your eyes peeled,' he muttered to them in parting, and began to creep forwards into the trees, frequently glancing at the ground to check the trail he was following.

It led straight into the trees like an arrow, merging shadows soon hiding the ground. It was getting very close to full dark now. Luckily, the Dogon was a large creature, giving it a massive disadvantage among the trees. It left a clear trail of broken branches, which Jack followed, praying he could find this thing before he needed to whip out a torch.

He moved all but silently, placing his feet carefully. The thing was a healthy 7 feet tall, and at least 2 axe handles across. Invulnerability or no, the advantage of surprise would be nice. To that effect, there was a sharp crack a few meters to the left, followed by a rustle. Jack quickly calculated the likelihood of there being any livestock around large enough to make those sounds, came to a conclusion, aimed, and fired. He was rewarded when the thing made a gurgling roar, which trailed off into a short whimper, then was silent. Unless they'd been seriously genetically modifying the sheep, he'd shot the right thing.

Instantly the comm he had pinned to his chest cut in with a 'Jack, you OK?'

'Fine,' he replied, tucking his gun away and creeping forwards again. 'I got him. We just need to get rid of the body, then we can get back to sunny Cardiff.'

'Fucking wonderful.' That was Owen, his sarcasm distinctive. Jack rolled his eyes and, finding where the large body had fallen, he grabbed a miscellaneous limb and hauled it up onto his shoulders, bowed significantly by the weight. He started back out the way he'd come in, eyes straining in the near complete darkness.

'I'm coming out of the trees, try not to shoot me,' he grunted into the comm, voice indicating the strain of carrying the alien weighing at least twice his bodyweight. He thanked all the Hindu gods for the muscular modifications he'd had done last time he'd visited the 62nd century. Dangerous as it was to parade that sort of technology around in this era, there were times when it came in handy.

'Barbeque time,' announced Tosh when she saw Jack appear.

Jack grimaced under his burden. 'You can smell this thing right?' Indeed, as Jack walked closer, Tosh wrinkled her nose and backed up a couple of steps. Shapes appeared in the darkness as the other two joined them.

'You all right with that there boss?' queried Owen lightly. 'Think maybe you could carry me as well? My feet hurt.'

Jack didn't deign to answer, just began to heave forwards, leaning against the incline of the hill. 'Someone turn a torch on. Sun set an hour ago,' he pointed out.

After a certain amount of grumbling and fumbling in the darkness, there were soon three yellow torch beams, bouncing about the field as they climbed. Jack followed Owen, who was walking the fastest in his eagerness to get back to civilisation. Or possibly he just didn't want to be anywhere near Jack and the extremely rancid Dogon he was carrying.

They thankfully managed to find the SUV again without incident, Tosh quickly put in a call to Ianto back at the base to tell him they'd been successful. Owen lifted the boot for Jack and he dumped the large alien in the back, making the SUV sink down on its tyres slightly.

Talking lightly about nothing much, the mood in the vehicle was cheerful as they headed back to the hub, the bright white stars beginning to spangle the sky so far from Cardiff's lights.

oo00OO00oo

'Owen, have you got that write up on our Dogon yet? I need to know how that thing managed to switch off its pheromones.'

Owen gave Jack a slightly fake smile. It was midday, the day after their jaunt in the country, and Jack knew he'd been working on it non-stop. The pestering really wasn't necessary.

'I was just about to come up and hand you the report. I need to run a couple of final checks, but it looks like it physically marred the two glands under the jaw line that secrete the substance. Must've been getting pretty desperate.'

Jack leaned his forearms on the railing that ran around the top of the infirmary, looking down at Owen and the alien on the dissecting table. He nodded. 'That could have worked. They've got pretty fast healing powers- it would have scarred over without bleeding much.'

'Yeah. It was just lucky we had our blood-hound with us. Might have given us the slip otherwise.' There was thick irony in his tone, and he was clearly hinting heavily at something.

Jack raised a dangerous eyebrow, daring him to continue.

Owen looked away, shrugging like he was dropping the topic. 'It weighs 223 kilograms, if you're interested by the way.' The challenging stare was back, as he looked Jack full in the eye.

Jack gave a crooked smile, shaking his head and walking away. 'You'd be amazed what you can do when you lift some weights, Owen,' he called over his shoulder. 'It certainly might help with your figure.'

'Oi,' he heard Owen grumble behind him. 'I'm wiry. Chicks dig it.'

Amused, Jack headed upstairs to get some coffee. He'd let Owen shift their capture over to the morgue himself. Maybe next time, he wouldn't be so argumentative when they had to go on a field trip.

The End (be gentle with the deluded author please)


End file.
